


Gestures

by thornsilver



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator, companion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:27:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16853956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornsilver/pseuds/thornsilver
Summary: How do you listen?





	Gestures

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528) by [Viridian5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5). 



> This fic is a companion to ”No Words” by Viridian5. To get full impact, you *need* to read that story first and pay attention to its warnings.
> 
> This fic was originally posted on LJ.

Aya had always had a vague prettiness about him, but during a fight that prettiness turned into something shiny and sharp. Just like his sword. He lost himself in it, totally, and he had been even more reckless, freer, since he came back to search for his sister. It drove me crazy.

Tonight’s recklessness resulted in an arm wound that Omi was currently taking care of. Aya had to take off his mission coat to give the kid access to his arm, and I was getting hard just looking at his sleeveless shirt. The bandages looked almost as white as his skin.

“If you need anything, Aya, just ask us."

“I know.”

Done. Finally! “I can take it from here, kid.”

Omi left with a smile, closing the door carefully behind himself. Nothing happened in Weiss without his notice, and he shared my opinion on the necessity in relaxing Aya before he imploded from all the tension.

Of course getting close enough to Aya to relax him is a feat in itself. He frequently reminds me of the joke about fucking hedgehogs.

Those spines were coming up now. "Get out of here, Yohji. I'm in no mood for company."

He was sitting on the bed, and I had to crouch to try to take a look under his bangs. The man was too adept in hiding behind them. "You don't mean that."

"I do. Get the hell out of here."

That’s typical Aya for you. It’s a good thing I don’t give up easily. "You needed a little coaxing last time too."

Not as much as I expected, incidentally. I was half-worried that he is going to slug me for the presumption. Instead, he melted under my hands.

"No, Yohji. No. Stop.” 

He was doing it again now. Why was he bothering to pretend that he was struggling? What was going through his head?

I slid my hands under his shirt to stroke his back. It was very smooth, except for the scars that Aya had managed to accumulate. His hip felt very good against my hard cock. I put an extra effort to make sure that *my* hip felt good against his.

"No, Yohji...."

"Shhh. I can make you feel better." And I would. Since somebody should, anyway.

I finally managed to get my hand on his cock. It was warm and needy in my palm. Of course he picked that moment to declare that he hated me.

“No you don’t.” Because I am still alive, for one thing.

He pushed himself into my touch as I said it, and my legs were really complaining about continuing this standing up, so I toppled us in the bed, making sure he did not hit his arm. Aya moved his whole body against me.

"No. I don't want this," he said, and it sounded breathless. 

"You don't want to want this." Because he was a martyr and martyrs don’t have orgasms. "C'mon, Aya.... God, you're beautiful...."

I jacked us both hard, and I watched his wide-open eyes as he came. He looked so surprised that I had to smile. 

You would think the guy would be thankful for a decent hand job, wouldn’t you? But you don’t know Aya.

"Get out of here," was the first thing he told me once he could speak again. Wham-bam…

"You're not the type to cuddle, are you, Aya?"

"Fuck off."

I got up and dressed before he worked himself up to something really nasty. He didn’t move.

I was suddenly worried that he had more wounds that he didn’t show Omi. "Are you okay, Aya?"

"No. You moron."

I mentally went over the encounter. He didn’t seem to flinch in pain once. 

Aya was still glaring at me, of course.

"See you tomorrow." 

He didn’t answer. He doesn’t do pleasantries. I decided to leave because his sullenness was getting me hard again and it was embarrassing.

I don’t think I will ever get what Aya is thinking. I think I am glad.

I wonder if he will deign to touch me back next time.


End file.
